Light up the Sky

f i v e

           Maya

Mom makes Lasagna and Broccoli curry which she makes alongside the gravy boat on Hannukah. Dad is pumped today, because he is headed back to India for something. He is yapping on the phone call in Hindi, and switching over to deep-accented English again. I can finally see the joy in his eyes after years. I take a sip of the Apple cider vinegar potion that mom makes every Friday. It's so dulcetly pleasing. It's cold, but not as icy as I wish it'd be. Mom is going to start switching over to Eggnog and Cinnamon Chai Lattè because Christmas is nearing. It's deluging outside, with the misty collect of droplets clogging the muddy plant pot. I watch as I can see the little leaves moving as if beat down to the ground. I sniff awkwardly as I want the smell of rain to calm me down further. Rain has always been something to admire the beauty of for me, as I enjoy nothing but merely dim lit rooms and ray-protected windows and screens. Dad gets up after dinner -- still on call -- and heads to the sink to was his hands. I don't feel that hungry so I tell my Mom that and get up. I wash my hands and look at myself in the mirror. It's foggy from the shower I had before dinner. I rub it and stare through the mirror into my own eyes. I wonder how I look to boys. They have probably seen millions of girls and never actually settled on one. Neighbor boy is adorable. I might just look like a chicken to him. Oh how much I wish I could talk to him. I mean it wouldn't be that bad to go out in the sun right? I mean my skin is already tan! My health is good, and honestly I haven't ever even tried to step out in daylight after the fainting incident. I shoo the thought away, as being a relentless and reckless teen won't suffice to my health. It'll just destroy it. I leave the bathroom and go to my room. I shut the door a bit too harshly and slowly descend to the floor like those dramatic after-breakup scenarios in movies. I've never really dated anyone, however I feel like I just broke up with someone. Except I never did. Before I know it, tears start rolling down my my heated cheeks, and I sit there and sob about how I will never, ever have freedom. How I will never ever have a boyfriend. And suddenly, the pathetic thought of being single means everything from freedom to faith.